The Good Hair Family Sitcom

S1 E6.1: Eye of the Ten Year-Old Boy

Marty's POV

This restaurant always has a lot of glasses clinking around in the background, joined by the sound of sizzling eggs from the kitchen. When The Spoon is busy, but the family wants to go for brunch, we always end up here, at the place a few blocks away, called Franny's Diner. Cyrus and Andi aren't great fans of this place, because they say that the way they pack all their chairs and tables together violates fire codes, but the rest of us just like the food, so they come anyway. Cyrus and TJ's family is at the far end of the long table that the servers have put together for us. Next is Amber and Andi with their daughter, then my household, and lastly Walker and Jonah sitting at the end, across from me and Buffy. The kids all chatter while trying to decide what they want to order, and I'm looking through the menu, considering what I could get that's new this time. But when I flip the menu over to the front side again, I end up looking at the drawing of a man with a wild, grey beard and moustache above the title of the diner. I assume this must be Franny.

"My grandpa used to have facial hair like this," I comment.

Jonah looks across the table to see and responds, "Yeah, I tried to grow one of those in high school, but my mom said I looked like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo, because I couldn't get it as full."

"Oh, yeah," Walker joins in. "I remember seeing you with that."

"Too bad we weren't dating when I had it," Jonah says with a smile, "because you would've loved it."

"I'm actually really glad we weren't dating when you had it," Walker counters with a laugh.

"I've never had a beard or moustache before," I say.

Overhearing that, my wife chimes in, "Well, don't start now."

Big mistake on her part, because Jonah and I look at each other, mirroring the same grin. Immediately, Buffy and Walker start shaking their heads.

"Nope," Buffy says. "No. Nuh-uh."

Too late. Jonah and I only smile bigger.

"Oh, no," Walker mutters.

Cyrus's POV

Wyatt squints as he reads the menu, his face practically touching it.

"Do you know what you're going to order?" I ask him.

"Yeah," he says, looking up at me. "Can I get the—" he glances down again to read it "—Bandana Waffles?"

I lean over the table to read what he's pointing at.

"The banana waffles?" I correct him.

"Yeah," he confirms.

"How much are they?"

"Eighty dollars. Wait." He squints harder. "Eight dollars."

Interrupting him comes Jayda as she spins in her chair to face me more, saying, "Daddy, can I go to a party this Friday?"

"Will there be parents at this party?" I ask.

"Well, no—"

"Then no."

"What?" she complains. "Why not?"

"Because the last party you went to you came home with your clothes reeking of a certain scent."

"I told you," she presses, "I got sprayed by a skunk."

"Then you wouldn't want to get sprayed by another one," I retort.

She rolls her eyes. "I wasn't even the one trying—" she pauses to fix where she's going "—the skunk."

"And I'd rather you not be around the people who do."